Wednesday, November 22, 2006

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read.Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,For the world was intent on dragging me down.

And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.He stood right before me with his head tilted downAnd said with great excitement, "Look what I found!"

In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light.Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,I faked a small smile and then shifted away.

But instead of retreating he sat next to my sideAnd placed the flower to his noseAnd declared with overacted surprise,"It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too.That's why I picked it; here, it's for you."

The weed before me was dying or dead.Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red.But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.So I reached for the flower, and replied, "Just what I need."

But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,He held it mid-air without reason or plan.It was then that I noticed for the very first timeThat weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.

I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sunAs I thanked him for picking the very best one.You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play,Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day.

I sat there and wondered how he managed to seeA self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.How did he know of my self-indulged plight?Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight.

Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could seeThe problem was not with the world; the problem was me.And for all of those times I myself had been blind,I vowed to see the beauty in life,And appreciate every second that's mine.

And then I held that wilted flower up to my noseAnd breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful roseAnd smiled as I watched that young boy,Another weed in his hand,About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man- Anonymous

Saturday, November 18, 2006

One song can spark a moment,One flower can wake the dream.One tree can start a forest,One bird can herald spring.One smile begins a friendship,One handclasp lifts a soul.One star can guide a ship at sea,One word can frame the goalOne vote can change a nation,One sunbeam lights a roomOne candle wipes out darkness,One laugh will conquer gloom.One step must start each journey.One word must start each prayer.One hope will raise our spirits,One touch can show you care.One voice can speak with wisdom,One heart can know what's true,

Friday, November 17, 2006

And Joy is EverywhereIt is in the Earth's green covering of grassIn the blue serenity of the SkyIn the reckless exuberance of SpringIn the severe abstinence of gray WinterIn the Living flesh that animates our bodily frameIn the perfect poise of the Human figure, noble and uprightIn LivingIn the exercise of all our powersIn the acquisition of Knowledgein fighting evils...Joy is there Everywhere.